Sunday, January 25, 2015


Look at how beautifully he struggles to please his Man. See how he swallows, then works hard to keep his throat open - the hard blink to let the tears of effort flow, and then that long, pleading, upward look of devotion.

Worship your Man with equal effort. Train your throat to overcome its natural instincts to choke - learn to take ALL of Him, root deep. It's simple and it's possible - all it takes his practice and dedication. Work until you can take Him all the way down into your throat. Let Him feel the flutter of your vocal chords around the head of His GodCock - strive to give Him pleasure like no other cock-sucker has before. 

You will never feel such pride and honour as when you feel the tremble of ecstasy through His body at the unique feeling as your body ripples and pulses around Him - or hear the thickness in His voice when He gasps that ‘Good BOY!’ in hunger and shock.

Devote you body to His pleasure - and gain TRUE and lasting pleasure in doing so. 

THIS is what it means to love and serve - and this is the true joy of submission.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


Beautifully inflated rubber - shared by @Langlitzleathercop.

Imagine being inside this suit Can you feel the soft press of the inner skin - squeezed against you by the building pressure of the enfolding layers…? The rising heat and the slow trickle of sweat down your back, chest and thighs…? 

Can you imagine how it feels to breath inside the muffled silence of that heavily inflated hood - the only sound the struggling hiss of your own breath through the valves and tubes - slow and hypnotic as you struggle to surrender to your predicament…

Your every move feels like it is underwater: resisted by the tightness and the unrelenting press of the suit; it forces your arms, your legs, your neck and body into a simple, upright pose: part doll, part object… 

You catch sight of yourself in the dungeon mirrors: the bulbous head swings around to look, and the lights flash from the misted lenses; you can hardly recognise yourself as human, so transformed are you within the grotesquely swollen form… You walk slowly forward: your movements are awkward, sluggish - forced as they are against restricting rubber. You reach up with gloved hands, touch your distended reflection and then the swollen bulge of your inflated chest: unbelieving that this inhuman perversion is what you now look like. You peer into the ballooned swell of what remains of your face, trying to see any remnants of who you once were within the tiny pin-prick eyes - but only blank and glistening rubber and plastic meets your desperate gaze. 

You hear a hiss as more air is pumped into the suit - the pressure around you builds even more: pressing the inner skin tight against your body, squeezing into every fold, every crack and indentation; the strain of holding your arms up against the press and pressure becomes too much, and your arms are forced down, rigid by your sides. Your body is trapped within the vice-like clamp of the suit as it presses inwards, tighter and more solid with every hissing second. It becomes difficult to breathe as the rubber over your chest becomes so tight, so hard - all of your focus narrows down to the effort required to simply draw the next wheezing lungful of air, laced with poppers and ether… 

As the rubber squeezes the humanity from your body, and the gas erodes the identity from your mind, you slowly surrender to what you now know to be the truth: You are rubber, you are trapped, and this bloated reality will now be your home…

Saturday, January 03, 2015

Puppy new year!

Wow, what a year 2014 was - happy, happy memories...!

Paws crossed for another great one - better than the last! (Which shouldn't be too difficult, as long as I get to spend a good part of it at my Mans side...)


Thursday, January 01, 2015

True service - true surrender.

That beautiful look: the pleading, upward cast eyes, the mouth already starting to form the ‘O’ of rapture - that open, desperate look of devotion and hunger that says “Please, Sir, fuck me. Let me give myself to You in pleasure and self-sacrifice”

This is the look of a true sub: a true man who willingly surrenders himself to the pleasure of Other Men, so that he may stoke the hunger that feeds them both, and raise your sex to an experience of Divinity. 

Don’t underestimate such a man - don’t belittle him or think him ‘less’ than others, for within this man lies the power to transform You into a God. For that is the power of the devotion from a true sub: in his eyes you will see Yourself reflected a hundredfold, in his devotion to You will feel yourself cleansed of frailty, in His Honouring of You You will find Yourself made worthy of Service. 

Let him worship Your cock. Let him pour forth his devotion on the altar of Your Masculinity. Let his worship of You transform You into the embodiment of his God - Your GodCock the Holy Phalus around which his very world spins. Let him poor His devotion into You - feel it in the heat and pulse of his body, the electric flash of every hooded glance he casts upwards to Your holy countenance. Feel Yourself empowered in that love.

Give him the honour of making You happy - let him feed upon You in selfless pleasure: every lick, every ripple of His tongue and twitch of his powerful throat bringing You closer to the most powerful orgasm you have ever known.

Let him take You inside the Temple of his body - and finally - let him transform you BOTH in the holy sacrament of giving him Your seed.

Let this Man honour You, serve You - LOVE You - and in doing so, change You, body and soul.

Tuesday, December 09, 2014

#Pup-social weekend - Birmingham 2014 (Saturday through to Sunday)

Both Sir and I were exhausted after all the fun of the PupSocial, so we headed back to the hotel to strip the pup of his rubber and shower him down - and then fell into bed for a wonderful snuggle.

I've said it before, but it's true: those moments wrapped warm and safe in my Man's arms are some of the best moments of any play-date - and the sleep I have, knowing He is there, surrounding and protecting me, some of the deepest and most satisfying I have anytime...

We woke after a few hours, then had to dress quickly and head out - ready to meet Neil and friends for a night of culture. We didn't really have time to eat, so grabbed some chips, hopped a taxi - and then ate in glorious out-of-the-bag decadence, sitting on a wall beside the canal - introducing Neil to the culinary delights of deep-fried battered mushrooms in the process...

We had been booked to see 'The Judas Kiss' at the Crescent Theater. The play was incredibly moving and explored Oscar Wilde's disastrous relationship with the unbelievably selfish Bosie (Lord Alfred Douglas) in two scenes: at the Cadogan Hotel whilst Oscar waits to be arrested, and two years after his incarceration, shamed, broken and penniless in a rat infested hotel in Naples. Seeing the shame and horror of the Victorian world at 'the love that dare not speak its name' seemed especially poignant, given the context of the rest of our weekend, and the Pride I feel in publicly being who I am - and yet it also made me think of all the places and cultures that still exist in the world today who seek to humiliate, outlaw and silence our love, our culture and our very existence.

Everyone was quite talkative about the play (and especially the very sweet actor who played Robbie) on our walk back through Brindley place, the Gas-street basin and on to the Gay quarter - but they still managed to talk themselves into another night of Skinhead chasing at the Boltz club, whilst my Man and I retired back to the hotel for a nuzzle, a snuggle, and a catch up with our sleep...


Sunday began - as all puppy-mornings do - with a great deal of sleepy puppy tail-wagging, a very wet licky tongue, a hungry welcoming throat, and a very happy puppy getting a well earned shot of protein - and then leaping out of bed to get my Man a reconstituting tea and biscuits...

We had no real plans for the day, so dressed and headed down into the city - ending up at the Canalside Cafe in the Gas street basin, for a breakfast watching the narrowboats bobbing at their moorings as various boat-tours came and went with happy tourists waving as they passed. A canal-boat tour seemed a very good idea, so we strolled along to have a look at the ICC (and a sneaky peak into the Symphony hall) and then joined a couple of German gents to hop the next boat for a very pleasant chug along the canals and Birmingham's rich industrial history (the fact that the helmsman was a rather cute, curly-headed blond in some rather fetching work-jeans didn't do any harm either...).

We were a little chilly by the end of our tour, so we headed back through the ICC and out into Millennium square: there to be welcomed by a skating rink full of people, and the edges of a German Christmas Market so stuffed with crowds that they had had to instigate a one-way system at one point. It was rather fun though - as were the roasted chestnuts and Belgian hot chocolate that we bought; just to warm our hands, you understand...

We wandered for a good hour, then finally met up with a great bunch of guys from Boltz at a huge Weihnachtspyramide-topped Bieerkeller stand - including the boot-mad Nicholas (who we had met before in Berlin, but it took me half a conversation to recognise - and then make everyone laugh by apologising with the universal 'What would I know: I'm a dog!' ). Neil was also there, despite having called off on meeting us for high-tea as he needed to catch a 3:30pm train back to Cardiff - saying he had been lured to stay longer by the very sweet Kevin, and his promise of a 20% discount on a new pair of made-to-measure Wescos. At least, that was the excuse - I'm not sure it wasn't Kevin's moustaches that sweetened the deal - it certainly would have been were it me...

We chatted to everyone for a while, but my Man was getting tired, so they offered to walk us back to the hotel. Even so, there was a great deal of milling outside of Tescos, a little bit of beard-cruising, and a fair consumption of tiny pancakes until we finally made our way back to the gay quarter - were we made our farewells, and agreed to meet later in the evening for supper.

Sir and I headed back to our hotel for a much needed snuggle and 'Disco nap' before the rest of the night's entertainment - then it was into our chaps and boilersuits for a walk into the Gay Village, there to wait - hassled by amorous drunks - whilst we waited for the boys. It was a rather longer - and colder - wait than we'd arranged, but we finally got everyone together for a fantastic noodle supper at MinMin - (even if the waitress did make my man laugh by asking 'Are you on a boys night out?' - 'Honey' He said 'I've not been called a boy in a VERY long time!')

Feeling contentedly fed (but not 'too full to fuck'), it was then on to Boltz - which was much quieter than the previous night. We bumped into one of Sir's friends for a brief chat on our way in, but then my Man dragged me off into the Bullring for a little fun.

Sir chose to start our play in the 'Motorbike room': ordering me to strip down out of my boilersuit, then drawing me over beside the bike and the down onto my knees before Him - my tongue eager to work His cock from the tight confines of His leather jock-strap so that I could worship and pleasure Him - pulling Him down into my throat and into my soul. I was utterly lost in devotion, but still aware of the guys who gathered to watch and give awed encouragement to my dedication - feeding off their arousal and using it to power even greater attempts to please and honour my Man.

Sir stopped me before I could bring Him to climax though - preferring to save that gift for one of the other rooms where we might have more privacy. Both sling-rooms were busy - and Sir had no condoms with Him so we couldn't get very active in the sling anyway; Sir finally led me into the Worship room, there to sit enthroned with the pup at His feet, greedily working away like some God-awed acolyte - before putting the pup down onto his back in the cage so He could get right down into my throat and TAKE His pleasure as long and deep as He wished - before having me kneel and take His holy seed upon my tongue in blessed sacrament (then greedily suck the last beautiful drops whilst Sir squeezed them out from the very base of His meat with His hands...)

Sated and bonded, we headed back out into the bar - and caught up with Andy to chat about how much fun the Social had been, and his plans for future PupSocial events on a bi-monthly basis.

It was a great end to the day - and we finally managed to drag ourselves away around midnight with lots of hugs and beard rubs all round.


Sunday morning found us slow to wake - horny and hungry but not wanting to get up. Several days of having my hole plugged had made me so ready and eager for my Man - and I confess to being very wriggly and whimpery in my desire to be fucked (even flipping myself onto my back with my legs in the air with my hole twitching a morse-like 'Fuck me now - PLEASE!') - but Sir was very strong and told me 'NO, pup! - I don't want to start something we won't have time to finish...'

So instead it was into a cold shower, then packing and check-out in record time - and then heading out onto the road home.

We often take the A roads for a more scenic route home - so Sir took us out of Birmingham through the Asian markets and hookah shops of Solihul, and then on through the winding country roads of Warwickshire and Oxford.

We skipped breakfast, but found a wonderul little Farm shop and tea room at Lime farm, Farthinghoe - where we stopped for Hommity pie and a pet of their goats, rabbits and pigs - then headed on through Banbury and Hoxton (the pup frantically writing notes for the blog on a notepad on his knee) - and a surprise little visit to my Alma Mater's originating location at Heythrop Park before finally turning for home and our farewells for another few weeks.

Thank you Sir - it was a wonderful weekend,and much needed. I Love my Man - balls to bone!

#PupSocial weekend, Birmingham 2014 - @PupSocial

Sir and I had heard about the upcoming OiFest #PupSocial when we ran our own puppy-play workshop at the Bristol Leather Weekend; it's been a while since we have attended a purely pup event, so it seemed a perfect plan to head up to Birmingham and see what it was like.

Sir drove - with both of us feeling warm in our full leather, and a trunk full of gear. The pup had found a cheap room at the Paragon - which looked very impressive in turn-of-the-century red-brick splendor in the pics, but proved to be rather UN-impressive once we got to our (tiny and very basic) room...

Still, we were there for the social not for a luxurious room, so we dropped our cases, made a quick change from leather into rubber, pulled on our boilersuits and headed back down to the car - with the dog hopping into the back as we headed down to Boltz.

It was still afternoon so Sir was able to find a parking spot just outside the club; He locked on my leash and made me wait patiently on all fours beside the car, waiting for a safe gap in the traffic before trotting me across the road and buzzing at the club door to be let in. The poor doorman took one look at Sir's High-vis Dog Handler uniform and white flat-top cap, and thought He was the real Police doing a raid; it took quite a bit of persuading (and a look down at the rubberpup accompanying Him) before he would let us in ;)

The downstairs club-space was surprisingly busy for a Saturday afternoon, but Sir had me trot straight through and up to the #OiFest event taking place in the social space up stairs. There were lots of horny skin guys around in bleachers and high-laced boots - and tons of stalls selling jeans, boots and skin gear - and it was nice to see the lovely guys from Dogs Bolloxx there with their stall too. They made a real fuss of the pup and gave me some lovely gingerbread doggy-bone biscuits (and Sir some curiously carnivore beef-and-onion ones!); sadly, however, they hadn't got any further in organising for us to deliver our pup workshop at the LeatherPride Belgium Camp k9 event in February...

Sir let me look over their gear for a while, then took us on a short trot around the stalls - stopping to say hello to the various traders He knows - and then led us through into the bar: following the sound of squeaky-toys and puppy-mayhem...

Sir's friends Nigel and Chris were both there at the bar, so Sir stopped to say hello - and then left His pup in safe hands whilst He went to find some drinking straws for the dog. Neil was really sweet, and knelt down so that I could have a friendly face in view - but I still kept one eye on the door: trying to find were my Man had gone - and the other on the crash-mats were all the pups were happily rough-and-tumbling at play.

Sir finally found some straws, and let me hydrate with a few gulps of cold lemonade - then He led me over to the pup-space to watch the frolics a little closer.

Richard and Andy had both done a great job in organising everything - with nice big clip-together crash-mats so the pups could jump about without hurting themselves, and a TON of toys and squeakies to play with. They had even made up individual doggy-bags for each pup to take home with them, each containing a ball, a dog-pull, and a squeaky-toy - for which, of course, this pup showed a hugely happy tail-wagging Thank you!

I've always shied away from puppy-moshes before. I'm a wee pup and surprisingly shy - and have always feared being overwhelmed and knocked about too much in the rough-and-tumble. But Andy and Richard kept a close eye on everyone, and stepped in when any pups got over-excited or aggressive - which made me feel safer, and so I was soon drawn in to a fantastic game of chase-the-ball with a wonderfully pupped-out Rubeus (who I've known through Pupzone for many years, but have never had the chance to actually meet) and the incredibly cute pup Xanto. Both Rubeus and Xanto were infectiously excitable, and incredibly good at getting even the shiest new pups involved in the games (especially Rubeus: even when he was totally in the zone, he always seemed to have one eye on the newest pups in the mosh). It was an honour to watch them both, and you couldn't ask for a better representation of how a big-brother pup should look after his pup-bros if you tried.

There was also a fantastic moment when Xanto finally worked out how to get the Maltesers out of the treat-ball - resulting in a cascade of chocolates and a baying scrum of puppies trying to hoover them up despite the various handicaps of mitts, hoods and muzzles (with sweet Rubeus coming to the rescue of one poor pup in a huge, spiked muzzle from Dogs Bolloxx - feeding him chocs one-by-one through his hood...).


I know there were a lot of photos taken - and one fantastic video that Xanto shared of he and I deeply involved in a game of squeaky-toy bounce that ended with everyone in stitches of laughter - but in all honesty I was blissfully lost to the world. Who could have thought that joy really could be found in just the smell and sound of a squeaky toy - that you could have so much fun chasing a laser-spot across the floor - or that you could lose yourself so completely in a simple game of 'Stay... Fetch!' (for which I must thank the sweet man from Dogs Bolloxx - sorry, I never got your name, but those moments focusing on the raggy, then waiting for your permission to 'fetch' were the most intense moments of puppy head-space I've had with anyone other than my Man...).

I was a wreck by the end, and leaving great pig puddles of sweat that leaked from my rear-zipper - much to everyone's amusement. Sadly, I also managed to split the knee of my pup-suit on something sharp: the second suit to go whilst pupping-out (making me wonder whether I should progress to something more 'robust' when at public events in future...). But I can honestly say I have never had quite so much fun. EVER. All the Handlers and owners were so supportive and encouraging, and the other pups so idiotically perfect - I really will hold that afternoon as a beacon of puppy-heaven for a long time to come.

And the best bit is that Andy says Liam has agreed to let them stage another PupSocial in January...!!!!

Thursday, December 04, 2014

Squeaky-toy heaven (#PupSocial, Birmingham 2014)

I'll be posting about last weekend's Pup Social at the Birmingham OiFest very soon - but I just couldn't wait to share this fantastic video from @PupXanto of he and I playing 'Bounce with a Squeaky-toy' (I've got one in my mouth, under the muzzle - I don't normally sound like that, honest ;) ).

Ah, happy puppy days!


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